


Boding the Inevitable

by MickUwU



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: ASPD, Alternate Universe, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Curses, Joxter is usually referred to as Joxaren, M/M, Manipulation, Snufkin and Joxter are murderers, Snufkin hurts creatures on screen but no one is murdered on screen, Snufkin is called Snusmumriken for a while, Snufkin lies a lot, he NEVER hurts Moomin physically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickUwU/pseuds/MickUwU
Summary: Snusmumriken, as he's initially called, has dealt with a curse his entire life. He had a chance to be alone, to get away from his father, to kill him, and he took it. He runs into two women who guide him to a place called Moominvalley, where he intends to plot his father's murder. He gets sidetracked, though, and something peculiar ends up happening.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	1. Snusmumriken becomes Snufkin

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably bad. I wrote most of it in one go last night. I'll update tomorrow and the day after that, if needed. I tried my hardest to make a plot that makes sense! I listened to a lot of piano/cello music while writing this, haha. That doesn't have anything to do with anything, but so is life.

Snusmumriken, as he walked the sand-riddled path near a river just outside of the Lonely Mountains, knocked rocks with a stick he found into the water. His pack was lighter that year. Maybe he was stronger.

“Oh, dearie! Why did you hit my shell, young one?” a meek voice inquired.

Snusmumriken smoothly turned his head toward her and glared down only with his eyes. “Because your shell looks like a rock.”

The crab flailed helplessly before skittering away. Snusmumriken’s tone was too threatening for her, he supposed.

He continued to walk against the flow of the river, swinging his stick just as carelessly as before. A faint part of him told him that another creature could fall victim to his activity but it was shoved away with all the other warnings like that. No thought could deter him.

“HEY, MISTAH!” a voice with an accent Snusmumriken had never heard before yelled at him. He turned to face whoever it was. “Dat was mah wife back dere! And you disrespected her!”

Snusmumriken knelt down and the crab softened its features, probably mistaking him for a young mymble instead of a teenage mumrik. Snusmumriken spat, “I did, madame. How about you go back to her and console her instead of trying to get some personal closure?”

The crab clipped her claws in shock. “Have I really been doing that instead of defending her honor? Oh, how miserable of a wife I am to her!” She ran sideways back to the first crab.

Snusmumriken decided that he was bored. He hated being bored, but it was a dry and lazy sort of day. His decision ended up with him collapsing on his bedroll and waking up before the sun was in the sky. He walked out of his tent to see his father's gleaming eyes move to look at him from near their temporary campsite.

“What?” Snusmumriken asked as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

“You look dead.” Joxaren cut a scaleless fish with a pocket knife. “Be good and get some firewood for us.” He shooed him away with a flourish from his knife-wielding hand. 

Snusmumriken stomped on some weeds and ripped leaves from trees as he scavenged. He thought his father was insufferable but he couldn’t seem to get away for long enough when he tried to leave. Joxaren had a certain knack for finding people, it was almost holistic or meant to be. The talent made it easier for them to let their nature calm down.

A certain idea sprung in Snusmumriken’s head: what if he took out his nature on his father? One less miserable thing in his miserable life to deal with! He felt almost giddy at the thought. That plot would need to be spectacular, though. Something to entertain people with…

He would need some time alone to think about how to execute it. He needed to leave. He could use this firewood gathering to flee! He couldn’t run because Joxaren would know something was up.

 _Go!_ his mind screamed. He leisurely walked to the side of the river, making sure he wasn’t being watched and waded into the water. He took broad-strokes and ran when he emerged on the other side, invisible in the misty morning air, hoping it was enough distance to not alert his father. He went through the woods to confuse anyone who could be following.

 _Faster!_ His jacket snagged on a thicket branch, drawing a little blood on his skin, causing him to hiss in pain. He needed to stop, he could get an infection if not treated soon…

A voice from far away yelled, “ _Where have you gone?_ ”

 _No! Run! You need to plan!_ He couldn’t stop. He’d be found. He ran, fists balled.

Before he knew much of anything, the world sounded different. His legs were tired and the sun was waving her "hello". The bugs weren’t buzzing like they were at the campsite and the birdsong was starting to become a loud chorus.

Thankfully, his father taught him to never discard his backpack, or else he’d be without supplies. He wouldn’t stop now, though, he needed to be sheltered somewhere where Joxaren would never look. Somewhere… peaceful and safe.

He heard a voice talking far too near to him. “Well, Moominvalley is just the most peaceful and safe place ever! Those Moomins are a treat!” it said to its friend, out of the sight of Snusmumriken. Ah, perfect. He jumped up to look for the voice’s carrier.

Two women were strolling through the woods, on a well-worn path, twirling parasols. Both were furry creatures he could not identify.

“Madames?” Snusmumriken called after them.

One turned. “Oh, Georgia! Look at the state of him!” she cried. The other, Georgia, turned.

“Do you need help, young lad?” Georgia asked. “My wife, Persikamatami, and I can take you to a trusted place until you can find a more permanent place to be? Or do your parents live around here?”

Snusmumriken smiled sweetly and asked, “I would like to visit my friends in Moominvalley.” Truthfully, he did not know anyone from this place, he just needed a quick way to gain trust.

“How funny! We were just talking about the Valley!” Persikamatami said cheerfully. “We’ll bring you there… What’s your name, child?”

If Joxaren came around asking for him by name, he’d be caught. Or maybe a warrant for his arrest was out with that name! He needed an alias. “Snufkin,” he said confidently, nodding his head in timing with the syllables.

“Let’s go find your friends, then, Snufkin,” Georgia initiative. He’d have to remember that name for introductions to not draw any suspicions. Snufkin. Snufkin. S-N-U-F-K-I-N. Snufkin. Maybe it’s too similar to his other name… He supposed it wouldn’t matter all that much.

The wives chattered about this and that, mentioning something Snusmumriken--well, Snufkin, he supposed. His internal dialogue should get used to that name. They mentioned something Snufkin had a great deal of interest in: the residents of Moominvalley.

“Moominpappa and Moominmamma were certainly the most hospitable hosts I’ve met! And that’s saying a lot. Surely, though, Snufkin, you would know that. They’re the highlights of that side of the Lonely Mountains,” Persikamatami said.

Their titles made him assume they were active parents. A shot in the dark, he said, “Yes! They make me feel like a treat. Their kid is one of my closest friends.” 

“Of course! That silly Moomintroll is very easy to be friends with.” Snufkin smiled fondly. He did not know a Moomintroll. He was unsure what a Moomintroll even was.

Georgia gasped softly. “Oh, no, Snufkin! Your arm!”

“Hm?” He looked at the arm that was cut earlier in his trip. “Ah.” It wasn’t a bad wound at all. A simple bandage would suffice.

“Let’s get you to Moominhouse faster then, no more leisurely walking,” Persikamatami decided. They continued at a brisker pace, making it to a hill where a red roof could be seen through the trees. He felt an itch up his spine. His nature was calling to him. He needed to do something about it. He _needed_ to hurt one of these women or both, but if he did that, he’d never get to--

“Ooh! Georgia! Look! Moominhouse! Just a straight walk from here to get to Moominvalley, Snufkin, dear.” He no longer needed them for the journey but they’d be useful in the introduction. Maybe if Moominhouse, as Persikamatami referred to it as, welcomed many guests over the years, he could play being a past guest and it wouldn’t be suspicious.

“I do hope they’ll welcome us a second time, seeing as we just left their residence,” Georgia said.

“Oh, don’t worry, dearest. They’d let us live there year-round.” Snufkin took a strong note of that.

“I suppose I shouldn’t worry, then.” They walked in contemplative silence, Snufkin faking a smile of recognition.

They crossed a bridge over a beautifully clear stream and walked a cozy path to a veranda. The house was cylindrical and tall and blue. Georgia knocked thrice and they waited for a response.

A fluffy, white, apron-wearing creature opened the door and greeted them all very kindly, even the stranger, Snufkin.

Persikamatami said, “This is Snufkin, but of course you already knew that--”

The lady whispered, “I do?”

Persikamatami continued, “--and he’s come by to say hello again! He’s friends with some of the residents of the Valley and friends with your son. He’s suffered a tear on his skin and we just needed to get him over here as soon as possible, Moominmamma.”

Moominmamma hummed, and said, “Welcome back, Snufkin. Let’s get you cleaned up… Have you been swimming… with your bag on, recently? It looks a bit damp.”

Snufkin nodded his head and concluded, “Sometimes the urge to swim is more powerful than my sense of restraint.”

A male voice called, “I like this young man! Much like myself, in impulsiveness!” Was this Moominpappa or Moomintroll? Or another creature he had not known about?

Georgia and Persikamatami stood triumphantly and then relaxed. “We’ll be off, then!” they said in unison, twirling their parasols as they left.

Moominmamma said, “Do you have any allergies we should know about? We’ve got a new type of bandage that has some sort of glue on it so we don’t have to wrap your arm and I don’t want you to be in worse pain.”

Snufkin got the sense that Moominmamma does not recognize him even in her desperation to be motherly. She must be onto something with him. His nature’s itch crawls up to his biceps, making him tense. “No, I’ll be fine with whatever you give me, Moominmamma.”

Moominmamma smiled faintly. She looked troubled. She gave him a tiny bandage-thing that stuck to his arm despite not wrapping around all of it. Neat.

A moomin, as he assumed was their species, of the same height and build as Moominmamma entered the room. He was unlike her in only two aspects: he had brown eyes while hers were green, and he had a tophat atop his head instead of an apron around his waist. “I’m Moominpappa, son!”

Snufkin was trying a lot to keep up the facade. “Oh, you’ve forgotten me so soon?”

Another moomin entered the room. Moomintroll. His eyes were a spectacular blue and he wore nothing to distinguish himself. Just a blue-eyed moomin. “Who’s this?”

“Truly, I can’t be that forgettable, Moominmamma!” he pleaded with her. She returned his faked-hurt look with scrunched eyes and furrowed brows of hope but the hard truth.

“It’s Snufkin, Moomin. Do you remember him?” Moominmamma asked.

“No, but I’m always happy to make new friends, or rekindle old ones, too!” The enthusiasm of this boy was contagious. Snufkin felt the pressure of the situation disappear soon after the exclamation. “I’m Moomintroll.”

“I know, Moomin. That’s okay, though. I’ll… just take my leave--”

Moominmamma quickly stopped him. “Please don’t, Snufkin. Forgive us for our manners. You’ve always been welcome here and you still are now. It’s only just before lunchtime, would you like to join us for my Special Summer Sandwiches?”

“I would be delighted to.” Moomintroll was staring at him, possibly trying to recognize him.

“Were you one of Little My’s siblings?” Moomin asked cautiously.

A tiny lady jumped up from a teapot and yelled, “My ears are burning! Are one of you talking about me?” She had red hair in a tight bun. Definitely a mymble. Was that what My was short for? Her voice was shrill and made the itch to hurt that much more present.

Moominpappa finally decided, “You look like my old pal, Joxter!” Was it a talent to pick fake names that were stupidly close to their original names? Obviously, that was Joxaren. Joxaren had told tales of strange, fluffy, white, creatures and even stranger adventures with them. Snufkin was reminded of his plan to plot. He’d have to do his plotting… in a house. Not ideal. If they're so hospitable, would they let him borrow a tent?

Snufkin simply smiled. “I’m rather hungry.” Everyone’s attention turned to the kitchen for their sandwiches.

They sat down, Snufkin waiting for Moomin to sit before sitting next to him. He put his bag next to his chair. Moominmamma brought out triangle sandwiches and they feasted. Snufkin had to admit that they were delicious, even though they were only sandwiches.

Snufkin caught Moomin looking at him more than once. He did nothing to be defensive as to not threaten anything.

Little My, who Snufkin decided he thought was cool, except when she yelled, finally asked who he was. “Come on, we’d remember you if you truly were here before!”

Moominmamma stared at her until she apologized, as Snufkin pretending to tear up.

Snufkin and Moomin were left alone at the kitchen table.

Moomin interrupted the silence by saying, “Do you need anything?”

A tent and a bedroll. “No, thank you.”

Moomin awkwardly picked at his claws. Snufkin noticed that he certainly was not comfortable alone with him.

Thankfully, a few knocks came from the door, drastically unlike Georgia’s knock had been. Two creatures came in: a Moomin with hair and a kangaroo, or something.

“Hello, my Moomintroll!” the moomin with hair elegantly greeted Moomin. “Hello, complete stranger! How’s Moominhouse been treating you?”

Snufkin gasped and looked away, hoping Moomin noticed. “Oh, come on, Snorkmaiden! You remember Snufkin, right?” Snufkin looked back at Moomin giving Snorkmaiden an overwhelmingly pleading look. She must not be a moomin, rather a snork. What strange creatures.

“Of course I do! Silly me.” Her fur changed to light pink. Must be her lying or guilty color.

The kangaroo came in and asked, “Snufkin! What’s up?” He was probably talking to Little My before he came and talked to him.

“All’s good! Happy to be back in the valley!”

“Happy to have you!” Moominpappa called from wherever he was. Everyone shared the shortest laugh in existence, as one must do after someone says something annoying but agreeable. Little My climbed atop Snufkin’s shoulders.

Snufkin looked to each of them with determination. He saw the looks they gave each other. They were unsure of what to do.

Little My suddenly screamed, “I forget, as I’m inclined to do--” Snufkin doubted that, “--but remind me, what do you like to do for fun?”

Snufkin replied, “Fishing.” He did enjoy fishing a lot. That’s all he did. Besides golf things into bodies of water. “Swimming.”

Snorkmaiden gasped loudly, “Perfect! I wanted to collect shells. Go get settled and meet us there!”

Moomin grimaced. “I’ll stay behind with Snufkin, you guys go ahead.” 

Snorkmaiden smiled and they did just that. Moomin had to find swimming wear for Snufkin and offered to take the bag to the guest room while Snufkin cleaned up in the bathroom. It had been a while since Snufkin had looked at himself in the mirror. His hair, which had been covered by his hat since he left his father, was scruffy and not styled at all. It had been a while since he cut it last. It was still short so he didn’t have to do anything drastic to it yet.

He splashed water in his face. He wasn’t very dirty. He’d been through a river just hours before. He’d only one noticeable cut and it was being covered by the peculiar bandage. His body had tiny scars all over his hands and shoulders. He hoped no one would mention it. When small creatures fight back, they like to leave marks.

Two tiny knocks came from the bathroom door. “Snufkin?” Moomin’s voice said. “I’ve got you some things to try.”

Snufkin was only out of his coat when he opened the door. He forgot to put on his kind face.

Moomin stood in awe then smiled from his eyes. “Your hair is very pretty.”

Snufkin, genuinely, said, “Why, thank you.” Gratitude was the first thing besides exhilaration he had felt in a long time.

They stared at each a moment longer before Moomin jumped back a little and extended his arm with the swimwear on it. “If none of them fit, you can swim in your clothes and we’ll get you some extra clothes to wear while we wash them.”

“That’s very considerate. Thank you, Moomintroll.” Moomin stared once again before whipping his head around and leaving.

Snufkin smiled to himself and closed the door.


	2. Snufkin becomes guilty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin confesses but not to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload!

The first time Snufkin had given into his nature was when he was very young. A creature was badgering him about him stepping on its tail.

Joxaren stayed out of it, later admitting that he wondered if Snufkin even had the curse.

Snufkin did.

With a great swipe of his paw, Snufkin struck the creature. “What do I have to gain from apologizing to such a small inconvenience? You’re just a little creature,” he was told he said. Snufkin doubted that immensely but still felt no remorse for the creature, nor did he care about any other creature he thrashed.

The more important the beast, the more satisfying the kill, as Joxaren explained one restless day.

Snufkin’s killings only grew.

-

“Do you need a bigger tent? Or more pillows?” Moomin asked Snufkin with worry. “Are you sure you don’t want to be closer to the house?”

Snufkin felt trapped when he rested in Moominhouse. It was cozy, yes, but that wasn’t the life for him. “I’m sure, Moomintroll. Would you like to help me set up?” He did not need Moomin’s help but if it would get him to stop worrying, then that would be fine.

“Yes!”

Moomin held most of the supplies, as Snufkin found it to be more efficient. Moomin asked him questions about what he’d been doing since his last visit.

Snufkin didn’t want to talk about his life. He didn’t enjoy most of it. The only positive part was the rush from watching the life drain from a beast’s eyes and not ever being caught doing so. He decided to be vague but truthful. “Camping with my father, moving around. Mostly fishing.”

“I’m never awake enough to go on fishing trips with my dear old dad, haha. How’s… yours?”

“His name is Joxaren.” Good. Give the real name so he won’t link it to Joxter and tell Moominpappa.

“Ah, yes, yes, sorry. How’s Joxaren doing?” Moomin sat with his feet bottoms touching each other and had a very determined look to him.

“I suppose now he’s much happier. Probably fishing or traveling if I had to guess.” Or attempting to find Snufkin. Murdering. The usual.

“That’s good, right?”

“It must be.”

Snufkin knelt next to Moomin. They both reached for pegs for the tent. Their paws bumped. They withdrew their hands quickly and laughed.

A large portion of setting up was full of awkward paw touches and laughter.

-

Snufkin’s first night out of the residence of the Moomins began with a sad Moomintroll asking why he’s leaving.

“Don’t fret, silly troll. I’m only going camping for a few days. I’ll be back before you know it.” Snufkin tipped his hat to Moomin. Moomin waved a lot. 

Snufkin’s body filled with warmth and he smiled back. He turned and left.

He didn’t fear getting caught as much as he once did. Joxaren constantly told him never to let his guard down. Someone was always out to get them.

Now, it seemed the only person who would truly get him would be Joxaren. He got away once, he could get away again. He could always go back to Moomintroll. 

Moomin’s hospitality to a complete stranger astonished him, although the results were tampered by Snufkin’s lie. Moomin, though, always treated him like a good friend.

Snufkin got the feeling that either the Moomins were the only creatures in the world who would embrace change fluidly or that Moomin genuinely liked him and strived for an actual relationship with Snufkin instead of the one he put in his head.

Snufkin felt safer when he thought of Moomintroll. The safest when Moomintroll was actually around. He worried he was getting too attached to Moomin.

Thank the Booble he was able to take a trip. He could’ve hurt Moomin if he’d stayed in the Valley any longer.

“Sir? What are you doing?” a forest creep asked Snufkin, who stopped to refill his flask. He had forgotten to back at Moominhouse.

“Looking for an outlet.” He didn’t feel cruel, unsurprisingly, when he threw the creep into a tree. Bark flew out behind it. Finally, the itch subsided a tiny bit. He still needed more.

The creep miserably lifted a paw of its own to crawl away but Snufkin wasn’t done. He’d never be done.

-

“Marco!” Moomin yelled in the seemingly empty house. Truthfully, the house had more guests than Moomin could see because they were hiding in a game of hide-and-seek.

Sniff jumped out of his hiding spot and said, “You can’t say Marco! This isn’t a water game!”

Moomin smiled and said, “Found you!”

Sniff grumbled at his loss.

Snufkin couldn’t help but giggle. Moomintroll was a clever one!

Moomin listened for Snufkin’s laughter and finally found him behind a suspiciously Snufkin-shaped vase.

Little My fell from a chandelier and was then immediately found.

Snorkmaiden was still missing. Snufkin wondered how she was as good at hiding as she was. She always won their games of hide-and-seek.

Was Moomin purposefully not finding her? The thought made Snufkin’s blood run cold.

Snorkmaiden jumped out of nowhere and tackled Moomin. “I win!” she proclaimed. Sniff and Little My clapped. Snufkin didn’t.

Snufkin hadn’t forgotten his reason for being at Moominhouse. He had, however, decided the best course of action would be to poison his father enough to not let him fight back, then finish the deed.

“Snufkin?” Moomin asked, snapping Snufkin out of his daze. Snufkin looked around. Everyone had left.

“Hm?”

“You seem tired. Are you not getting enough sleep? Is the bedroll uncomfortable? Is it too cold?” Moomin was quite a charming worrier.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Though I do have something I need to get off my chest.” Snufkin! Snusmumriken! Why did you say that?! Now he’s going to expect something profound!

“Can we go on a walk and then talk about it? I want to be outside for a while.”

“That sounds nice.” It really did. Summer was coming to an end so there was a pleasant chill about the air.

They took a short hike to a hill of no significance and Snufkin held out his pinky once that sat down to watch the wind rustle the leaves of the trees.

Moomin returned the gesture and they interlocked fingers.

“Do you promise to not let this change anything?” Oh, god! Snufkin! Snusmumriken! What are you doing? Are you going to tell him everything is a lie?! Horrible idea! Stop!

“I promise.” Moomin’s face was reddening. Snufkin couldn’t fathom why.

“I’ve never been to Moominvalley before. This is my first time.” Idiot! Stupid! He’s going to hate you! Why do you care if he hates you? You don’t care about anything. What are you doing?

“Oh.” The color in Moomin’s face faded. “Why did you cry when someone said they didn’t know you?”

This was horrible. “To perpetuate the lie.”

“Why did you lie?”

“To escape my father.” Half-truth. A bit was to escape cops. A bit was to escape responsibility.

Moomin sighed. “You could have told us the truth before. We would’ve helped you.” His body was stiff and he refused to look Snufkin in the eye. “Could you tell me the whole truth? The whole story?” Snufkin wanted to grab Moomin’s hand to reassure him but he knew that wouldn’t end well.

“I wanted to get away from my father--” to kill him, “--so I ran as fast as I could until I met these lovely ladies who I lied to about my name and relationship to you so I could hide as long as I could.” And a curse.

“Snufkin--” Moomin paused. “Your name’s not Snufkin?”

“I like Snufkin more than my other name, though.” That was true.

“Then I’ll continue to call you Snufkin. I think, though, that you shouldn’t have lied.” Good! Moomin’s taking his side! As long as he doesn’t mention the curse or the murder! “Is there anything else.”

“I ran from my father, not because he was abusive, but because I was planning to take him out of his misery.” What?! Snufkin! Snufkin! Snufkin! Idiot! What are you doing?! Why do you trust this creature so much?! How much faith can you have in Moomin not to turn you in?! Do you want him to leave you?

Moomin didn’t move, nor did he breathe.

“Moomin, please, hear me out. There’s a curse set on my species and I just wanted to stop it all. To make my father stop hurting others. To do the final thing. To… end all of it. For myself, for my father. We hunt and hurt and have no remorse. We lie and cheat and steal. We kill just to get the urge to stop for a while. I just wanted to be free.” If he had a choice, he would never hurt a creature. But he couldn’t bear the itch.

Moomin looked like he was going to cry. “Were you going… to hurt yourself?”

Snufkin sighed. “I think I was. It was in the back of my head when I planned. I knew that my father wasn’t the last mumrik. I am. I knew I needed to stop our reign of terror, or whatever it is.”

Moomin said, “If it’s a curse… there has to be a cure! I know where to look!” Moomin bolted back toward the direction of Moominhouse. Snufkin didn’t struggle to keep up, as he had nothing weighing him down, like his backpack. Snufkin’s brain made a bizarre connection. The things his father taught him… only weighed him down. He slowed his pace briefly before the strongest need to be with Moomintroll took over his limbs. He ran.

They arrived at Moominhouse and Moomin frantically threw books off shelves in the kitchen as Snufkin dodged them, although one struck him on his chest.

Mamma came downstairs to witness whatever was happening. “What’s happening, dear?”

Moomin yelled, “Got it!” before falling off the counter into Snufkin’s arms. He scrambled out of them and asked, “What’s it called?”

Snufkin didn’t know which name to give. He felt very exposed with everyone in the room as he said, “There are two names. Curse of the Mumrik and--”

Moomin quickly found the page with the information on it from a tattered back, and read aloud, interrupting Snufkin, “ _This curse works one mumrik at a time. Refer to: The Fundamentals of Curing a Curse Completely for more. Make the mumrik listen to why a certain creature deserves to live. Show the mumrik love and support in getting better. Recommend substitutions to murder. Some recommended substitutions are eating salty foods, fishing, and learning to play music. Signs of an improving mumrik: realizations about life, telling large chunks of truth at a time, not overanalyzing people, hesitance. Lastly, seal your intentions with a hug. NOT OPTIONAL._ ”

Little My, who was attracted to pure chaos, threw saltines at Snufkin. “Eat!”

Snufkin, who had not wanted to hurt anything initially, considered throwing Little My into the wastebasket. Maybe he should eat crackers…

After a very confusing cleaning session, Moomin explained everything Snufkin had confessed. Snufkin, to his own surprise, didn’t care that everything he had kept from them was now out in the open. He only cared about what Moomin thought. Moomin didn’t seem pleased but did seem desperate enough to find a cure for something Snufkin thought would be his demise.

Moominmamma put a hand on his shoulder. “Keep a diary, Snufkin. We need to know when you have these feelings and if they happen randomly or if they’re triggered. You have to sleep inside tonight. No fussing.”

Snufkin wanted to fuss. Now he was being monitored. And being kept inside. And having to be open about his emotions. He was, to be simple, not pleased.

“Snufkin, just as a precaution, you’ll sleep in Moomintroll’s room tonight. Moominpappa will collect your bedroll.” Moominpappa dutifully jogged to Snufkin’s campsite to collect his stuff. Moominmamma looked worried. Little My seemed distant.

Snufkin felt every eye on him. Was he supposed to please them? He’d always be a killer. There was no changing nature.


	3. Guilty becomes relieved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teety-Woo happens. Snufkin remains complacent until a forgotten father comes back... them everything changes for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! Proof that I forgot about a fan fiction for a while, haha. Here’s the (most likely) unsatisfying end. Now it’s over.

Snufkin awoke from a nightmare. He was sweating and panting and he just needed to relieve his nature--

“Snufkin, what’s wrong?” Moomintroll suddenly asked, turning on a lamp. His eyes were dark with a lack of sleep. Snufkin hoped it wasn’t because of his tendencies and hoped it was because Moomin was worried, although both were bad.

“Just a nightmare.”

Moomin sighed. “Come up here.”

“What?” Snufkin’s hands sweated more.

“It’s cold and uncomfortable on this floor. Just sleep in my bed and you’ll probably pass out from comfort.” Moomin sniffed. Oh, had he been crying?

Snufkin crawled into Moomin’s covers and Moomin faced away from him. It was a comfortable bed, indeed.

-

“Fishing trip!” Moominpappa announced, barging into Moomintroll’s room one warm August day. Snufkin shot up and fell on the ground from Moomin’s bed. Moomin didn’t budge. “Us boys and whoever follows us! Fishing trip! Let’s go, get dressed, Snufkin!” Snufkin groaned and shuffled around for his coat and a hair tie. His hair, still, was to be cut.

He dressed and ruffled Moomin’s fur to wake him up. Moomin woke up with a dramatic flair, as Snufkin learned he did not do unless he’d already been awake.

Moominpappa coughed to make his presence known. Moomin nodded to him and slipped into some boots, as it had rained the previous day and Snufkin assumed Moomin didn’t want caked mud on him while he was fishing.

The three scrambled into a fishing boat meant for two and set to sail with a basket of bread and jams and the necessary butter knife. “There’s nothing like the ocean air in the morning, right, boys?”

“It does feel nice,” Snufkin muttered, only truly paying attention to the half-asleep Moomintroll who was a risk for flipping the boat if he collapsed. His fur was all messy.

They spent hours without a single catch. Snufkin started to get antsy, then the all-too-familiar itch came. “I want to attack something.”

“Hm… okay. Jump into the water and grab a creature that’s not a fish.”

“What?” Snufkin couldn’t believe he was just told to kill something.

“Don’t kill it, but put it in our bucket. You get the excitement of hunting but we have to abide by the rules of the book, son.”

Snufkin sighed but gleefully leaped into the water, effectively splashing Moomintroll to consciousness.

Snufkin didn’t know how deep he could swim before drowning but he swam until he found a creature, which, thankfully, wasn’t long. He emerged with the creature and placed it into a bucket.

The three stared at the creature.

Moominpappa asked it, “What’s your life like, then?”

The creature expelled bubbles from its mouth which, when they reached the surface, made intelligible sentences. “I have the wonder of the ocean to explore. I go to my family’s rock later into the day and we make each other laugh and whatnot. It is wonderful to be alive.”

Snufkin gulped. He let the creature go back into the water. He felt lighter, almost. Like some weight had been lifted from his head.

-

Little My tried to tackle Snufkin as he entered the kitchen one afternoon. Tried is the key word because she hit his side and then slid off him. Her attempt was recognized as poor so she shoved a strange piece of metal into Snufkin’s hands rather harshly.

“It’s a mouth-organ. For the music part of the cure.” She stomped away.

Snufkin remembered that his father used to have an instrument much like this one. His was rusted and some of the reeds weren’t functional. He put the shiny harmonica, which he was certain it was called, against his lips and let muscle memory do the work. He was not the best but it felt natural to play. He let himself get carried away in the music, channeling emotion he hadn’t dared to think of. His affection for Moomintroll. His wanting to leave and adventure. His wanting to apologize to everything he’s ever hurt or manipulated. He knows he can’t, he knows he’ll never be fully forgiven. He had done something unthinkable countless times.

He stopped playing and opened his eyes, not knowing he’d closed them, and saw a Moomintroll staring in awe, his blue eyes shining.

-

Moominmamma made salty snacks but none of the dinners were ever too salted. She was worried he would become immune to the workings of the cure if overexposed.

Snufkin’s favorites were just salted crackers. He thought they were easy to eat so he ate them the most.

Moomin liked popcorn the best. Snufkin didn’t like the noise it made when being popped so he never bothered to try.

“Come on! You’ll never know until you try it!” Moomin tried to convince him. He smiled widely.

Snufkin’s mouth automatically smiled fondly back. He was tired. “Fine, fine, fine. But I’ll never make it myself!”

“That’s fair, Snufkin. Now, just try it okay?”

Snufkin opened his mouth for Moomin to put popcorn in it. See, Snufkin and Moomin were at different sides of the kitchen table, so you can see what the obvious solution they came up with was:

Moomin was going to throw popcorn at Snufkin until Snufkin caught some in his mouth.

They did that. Popcorn got everywhere. They both laughed so hard that they couldn’t move for a solid 10 minutes. Snufkin decided popcorn was good enough to eat leisurely but not good enough to cook.

Snufkin and Moomin faced each other while they slept that night.

-

Snorkmaiden and Sniff had been told by letter Snufkin’s situation and granted a formal apology from Snufkin in person. He delivered it as himself, not whatever lies he made up about him in the past.

An unexpected visitor arrived at Moominhouse after Snufkin returned from apologizing. They were tall and skinny. Snufkin didn’t bother to make an entire rendition of them in his head out of respect, even though it was something he instinctively would have done. Snufkin didn’t particularly like guests at all. However, he kept his disinterest to a minimum, to appeal to the emotions of a stranger. He didn’t understand why he had to care at all. There was no point in being kind to someone he’d never meet again. 

He tried his best to behave. He was rewarded with an entire cake. Which he had a single slice of. And then Little My ate all of it.

-

Snufkin felt jittery. He’d been inside for far too long. “Moominmamma, please let me go camping.”

Moominmamma sighed but decided Snufkin deserved to have at least one night of camping, as he was accustomed to. 

Moomintroll saw him off with a happy wave from his window and Snufkin’s bag was packed full of salty snacks. He couldn’t be more excited. His first time alone in the wilderness since August!

He set up camp, with, of course, the Moomin’s camping supplies. He was mighty comfortable on the ground, more than he thought he would be.

As he watched the light of the sun fade into the horizon, he heard a voice squeak, “Who are you?” from across a river.

Snufkin was not in the right headspace for dealing with forest creeps but he invited the creep over anyway. “I’m Snufkin.”

“What a neat name! What are you doing out here alone?”

“Camping.”

The creep didn’t seem deterred by Snufkin’s stern manner of speaking nor by his stoic expression. It continued, “Do you have anything to pass on to forest creeps?”

“Like what?”

“A song, perhaps. A kind word or two. A warning, whatever have you!”

Snufkin thought about playing for the creep. “Alright, what’s your name then?”

The creep tilted his head. “I haven’t a name, I’m too small for such an honor.”

Snufkin felt bad for this creature. He was just a creep. Nothing about him was memorable. Snufkin took out his harmonica and played a jaunty song, filled with expectation but then had a sorrowful ending. “Oh, I know.”

“Hm?”

“Teety-Woo. A name that's happy to begin with but then sad at the end. Get it? Teety-Woo.”

The creep smiled. “Teety-Woo. Teety-Woo! TEETY-WOO!” It howled greatly. “Oh, Snufkin! Thank you for such a great gift. Both a song and a name at once! I’ll spread the word of your wonders, Snufkin. There should be more creatures like you.”

Normally, Teety-Woo would’ve been added to Snufkin’s long list of killings, but something was different about Snufkin. He was more understanding, considerate, something else. He knew more because he had tried more. Snufkin felt a sense of pride wash over him. Maybe nature doesn’t have to be set in stone.

-

Snufkin awoke on Moominhouse’s couch with Moomin next to him, still sleeping. There are obvious differences between Moomin pretending to sleep and Moomin being asleep. When Moomin sleeps, he breathes shallowly and has a soft snore. When Moomin pretends to sleep, he tries to stay as still as possible and doesn’t make any noise.

The sun wasn’t in the sky yet. Snufkin had some contemplating to do.

He didn’t want to kill anything. He didn’t even want to harm his father. Why did he still feel like he had to? He started to take shorter breaths because he was panicking. He didn’t want to be responsible for another creature’s death. He couldn’t be.

Moomin woke up. “Hey, Snuf, what’s up?” he slurred.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Snufkin whispered, wanting to cry.

Moomin wrapped his arms around Snufkin and did so until Snufkin calmed down. He continued to hold him until they both fell asleep once again, waking up to the chorus of Moominhouse in the morning.

-

“Oh, Joxter!” Moominpappa loudly announced. “Fancy that! Our most recent guest does bear a strong resemblance to you.”

Oh no. Moomin grabbed Snufkin’s wrist softly to lead them downstairs but Snufkin resisted greatly.

“Come on, Snuf! What’s the problem?” Moomin asked. “I thought you wanted as much practice as you could get with strangers.” Moomin’s eyes were shining. “Plus, this is someone from Pappa’s exploits and I’ve never gotten to meet him.” 

Snufkin felt like bawling. He did not want his father to know he was at Moominhouse. “P-please, just, uh, go see him yourself.”

“What’s wrong?” Moomin squeezed his hand.

“Joxter is my father.”

Moomin’s eyes shot wide open. He slapped his face with his free paw. “I should’ve realized! If you and your father were the last mumriks, then Joxter had to be one of you! Oh, sorry, I made this about me, didn’t I? Well, I can try to get him to leave if you can’t have him here. I can tell Pappa and he’ll take him on an adventure somewhere, if that’s better.”

Snufkin shook his head. “Your dad’s going to tell him I’m here anyway. There’s no reason to do anything.”

Moomin sighed and hugged Snufkin lightly, leaving room for Snufkin to deny it. He didn’t.

They walked downstairs, Snufkin wanting to leave the moment he caught his father’s scent. Tobacco and blood.

“Snufkin and you are vagabonds, too! It’s strange to see such similarities in two strangers,” Moominpappa told Joxaren. Snufkin and Moomin hovered in the threshold of the kitchen, listening to their conversation.

“Snufkin, is it? Hm.”

“What is it? Do you know him?”

“Well, that boy over there’s name is Snusmumriken.” Joxaren pointed directly to Snufkin without even looking at him. “And I’m here to ask what he’s done.”

Moominpappa smiled proudly and revealed, “He has improved.”

Joxaren scoffed. “Mumriks don’t… change, Moomin. He’s a killer. Did you know that?”

“Yes, we did!” Moomintroll interjected before his father did.

“Yes, but he couldn’t have admitted that when you first met him. I bet he still kills even after whatever you’ve done to him. When he’s gone for periods of time, do you doubt him? Do you believe he’s restraining himself? That you can fix a mumrik?”

“We’re not trying to fix anything! We’re trying to make him less miserable!” Moomin looked very angry.

Snufkin wanted him to stop being upset. He wasn’t worth getting upset over.

Joxaren turned around to face Moomin. He rolled his eyes. “Do you believe he was miserable? Or do you believe he was being made miserable? Whatever you think I was to him, I only protected him. I was there to keep him out of trouble. But look at him now. He’s flowy and relaxed. Like a coward.”

Snufkin felt his breath begin to hitch. Moominpappa stopped Joxaren’s interrogation.

“Now, Joxter, don’t you go scaring the kids like that. Snufkin has gotten a lot better and there’s no denying it.”

“Social normalities for what? A target. You’ve become prey, now, Snusmumriken. You’ve lost.”

Snufkin replied with confidence, “Ah, but I no longer have to kill to be satisfied. I’ve won.”

“What?” Joxaren snapped. “What did you three do to my boy?”

Moominmamma appeared and said, “Your boy has overcome an evil. You can, too, dear. If you only would trust anyone.”

Joxaren huffed. “Whatever you think, Moominfamily.” He continued to sit in his chair, not saying a word, not looking at anyone.

Moominmamma bustled around until she brandished a book of cures. “Ah, yes, _The Fundamentals of Curing a Curse Completely_ ,” she read aloud. “ _The admission that you were wrong. WD-40. Essential Oils. An amulet. An exorcism. Above all else, if none work, true love’s act of love. This does not need to happen to the afflicted, they only need to witness it. Read: How to Find Your True Love_.” Mamma sighed. “Joxter, please, let your pride down and let us help you.”

Joxaren laughed. “Sure. For fun, I guess. You can never resurrect the dead, though, I hope you know.”

“Yes, thank you,” Mamma nodded her head. “Admit that Snufkin seems more comfortable.”

“Snusmumriken.”

“Fine. Admit that Snusmumriken is more comfortable.”

Joxaren said, “Snufkin looks more in his element now that he’s been away from me.”

Snufkin’s head started to hurt. Joxaren seemed unaffected.

“Oh, I don’t want to find my oils or any products… let’s just move on to the act of true love.” She rustled through the pages of the book and read, “ _To figure out if someone present is one of your true loves, ask them to spell your name. This book will begin to glow if they love you truly._ Odd.” Mamma looked to Moominpappa. “Would you please spell my name, title and all, for me?”

Moominpappa hummed and spoke, “M-O-O-M-I-N-M-A-M-M-A.”

Mamma giggled and looked at the book. It was certainly glowing from what Snufkin could see. “ _Furthermore, an act of true love can be a kiss, a hug, or a physical object that they collected or created themself. Less obvious acts of true love are words spoken._ ”

Moominpappa nuzzled Mamma’s snout with his own and hugged her.

Snufkin doubled over. His head hurt tremendously and Joxaren began to sway in his chair.

Moomin gasped in shock and patted Snufkin’s head to comfort him.

Snufkin felt his heartbeat lighten and his hands fully relaxed, like he unclenched his jaw for the first time. He felt much clearer.

Joxaren looked up with a look Snufkin had never seen before. “It’s gone,” he whispered.

Moominpappa knelt next to him and asked, “What is?”

“The itch. The unbearable itch. It’s gone. I don’t feel it.”

Moomin announced, “It worked! The curse is broken!” Snufkin thought so, too.

“It must be,” Snufkin concluded.

Joxaren laughed heartily. “Well! We’re the last two mumriks on this planet and guess what! We’ve got rid of the curse!” Snufkin felt that it was a little funny, so he laughed, too. He hadn’t felt that giddy… ever. It was like he was a new man.

-

Snufkin and Moomin lay on the ground of Moomin’s floor, looking at glowing star decorations on the ceiling.

Moomin rolled over to face Snufkin. “Spell my name.”

Snufkin smiled. Moomin was clutching the book of cures. “S-I-L-L-Y, space, T-R-O-L-L.”

Moomin laughed and shook his head. “No! Spell my name.”

Snufkin sighed contentedly and said, “M-O-O-M-I-N-T-R-O-L-L.”

The book glowed. Neither of them said a word. They returned to looking at the ceiling.

After a considerable amount of time, Moomin broke the silence. “Why did you and your father have a different name for the curse than the Curse of the Mumrik?”

Snufkin thought about it. He wasn’t sure if Joxaren had come up with the name for it or not, but he assumed, “We call it what we call it because we couldn’t stop it from happening. The curse was a recipe for terror. Every moment truly was boding the inevitable, and so we call it that.”

Snufkin felt Moomin grab his hand. He supposed that it wasn’t inevitable if he could recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Feel free to point out any mistakes or whatnot.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have ASPD so I don't know what it's like, and I understand that it's not a curse to have a personality disorder, but their affliction is negative to them and causes them to be hostile. The instrumental of Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier resonates with this fic, in my opinion. Fun fact, Persikamatami is basically means "Peach Matron". So... Georgia and Peach... get it? Ahaha, I'm a delight. Also, stayed tuned for the next part!


End file.
